Look upon my works and despair
by A.A. Pessimal
Summary: Tidying up the loose ends after "Pyramids". A short I've been aching to write for some time about a touchingly vulnerable small-part character. Not sure whether this is "complete" as it stands or is "in progress". You decide?


_**Look upon my works, ye mighty….**_

Lord Vetinari gratefully accepted the iced date-juice cocktail from a passing waiter. He took a sip, noting that his hosts appeared to be cold and uncomfortable even on what by Ankh-Morpork standards was a sweltering summer day.

"Why, Ambassador, you spoil us!" he genially remarked, as a tray of little chocolate balls wrapped in gold foil passed by.**(1)**

The Ambassador, proud as he was of his new Embassy, at whose formal opening the Patrician was a honoured guest, smiled appreciatively under his formal black wig, bound about with ornamentation of gold and lapis lazuli to proclaim his relationship to the Royal house.

He bowed slightly.

"You must meet the builders, My Lord" he said. "Her Majesty has expressed her sincerest thanks and admiration to them."

"Oh, yes" said Vetinari. "A _singular_ design. But then, it is not unknown for a foreign delegation to remodel a typical Ankh-Morpork building to suit its own national and cultural taste. Although I can perceive that would have been impractical in this case and the only thing left to you was to clear the site and import your own master builders to oversee the design."

Ambassador Rameses Thothmosis smiled again, as Vetinari's eyes swept past the commemorative stelae showing Pharoah Ptraci the First, her fingers poised in impatient mid-tap on the arm of her throne, and the Royal Scowl having been caught to perfection by the artist who had sculpted the bas-relief. **(2)**

Underneath, in an ornamental cartouche, was her title:-

_She Who Gets Things Done, Or Else She Wants A Reason Why Not. And It Had Better Be Good. _**(3)**

Vetinari's eye was again caught by the architectural audacity of the building. It had four sides. Triangular sides. These tapered up to a common apex about a hundred and seventy feet off the ground.

It was a pyramid.

But a pyramid of light and subtle flowing colour, as its sides were clad in blue and green glass. This was tinted, so that it was impossible to see the inside. **(4) **Vetinari nodded, appreciatively. He had to admit that not all modern architecture was ugly and abominable: a work like this that combined the grace and proportion of classical architecture with the best innovative features of the new had something to be said for it.

The ambassador led him to where a group of obvious Djelibeybians, some in Ankh-Morporkian suits, and others in best formal loincloths and dress wigs, were nervously waiting for him. All except one, who seemed to be a native of the Central Continent (though heavily tanned) who grinned as if he were enjoying it, and who moved as if he was _very_ comfortable in his all-black clothing.

"We could not have hoped to build such a magnificent edifice without private funding from publicly-minded citizens, my Lord. May I introduce Prince Pteppicymon of the Royal House…"

One of the suited men bowed slightly and extended a hand. Vetinari took it.

"You were, of course, Pharoah for a time." Vetinari said, politely. The question hung unasked. Pteppic smoothly provided an answer.

"After due reflection, sir, it occurred to me that my sister was _far_ better equipped than I was for the role. Therefore the best service I could make to my country was to abdicate."

Vetinari nodded.

"And the _real_ reason?" he asked. Pteppic smiled.

"You are famed for your perception, sir. To be honest, I'd seen the world outside Djelibeybi. I was educated in this city. I knew when I went back that I could never stay there again."

"At the Assassins' Guild School, I recall. Just as you were, Mr Chidder."

The tanned smiling one nodded.

"Viper House, sir. Under Mr Nivor. In the old days, before it got interesting"

The Assassin's Guild School had gone co-educational several years after Chidder and Pteppic had graduated. Vetinari sensed that while the School had formidable and draconian sanctions against excessive mixing of its male and female pupils, a Chidder would have actively relished finding ways around them, and indeed around Miss Band, Miss Smith-Rhodes, and the other female teachers employed to enforce convent-like celibacy on their charges. (Although it was rumoured that Chidder had entered an, ah, liaison, with Assassins' School teacher Emmanuelle-Marie Lapoignard les Deux-Epees, within an half-hour of first meeting her. Vetinari did not doubt it, although keeping an accurate count of her lovers was not thought to be a productive activity for the Dark Clerks.)

"And what brings you to our city again, Mr Chidder?" Vetinari pleasantly asked, although he already knew full well; he also knew the Maritime Division of the Watch Cable Street Particulars were keeping his ship under observation on behalf of the taxation authorities, and his Dark Clerks were monitoring for "irregularities". A lot of people were very interested in knowing exactly how Chidder and Pteppic's business partnership had got to be so wealthy in so relatively short a time.

"Trading opportunities, my lord." Chidder said smoothly, although he did not try to insult the Patrician's intelligence by adding words like "legitimate". "They are so much better here, especially since I became a naturalised citizen of Djelibeybi and registered my businesses there, in a more forgiving taxation regime."

_Non-existent, _thought Vetinari. He filed this thought away for attention later.

"And I see you have expressed thanks to your adopted country by paying for its new Embassy. How very public-spirited of you!"

"The least I could do, sir!"

"Indeed!" said Vetinari, drily. He moved on, to the citizens in formal native garb. The Ambassador prompted him.

"Mr Ptaclusp and his sons, sir. Of Ptaclusp and Associates, Master Builders."

"You are to be congratulated, sirs. A magnificent building!"

"Thank you, sir. Er. We'd been looking for some time to break into the Ankh-Morpork market, as the news of your planned Undertaking had spread throughout the world of builders and masons and allied trades. What with the Builders' Guild here being a bunch of selfish grasping…"

Ptaclusp winced as his son, Ptaclusp IIa, discreetly kicked his ankle.

"With the Builders' Guild here quite understandably wanting to protect the interests of its locally based members, it took a while for the right opportunity to come along. But as I pointed out to Mr Gregson, this here sand…"

"_Soil_" corrected Ptaclusp IIb. "Not _sand_, dad. Things grow in it!"

"This _soil_ here is Djelibeybian soil by right of diplomacy. Therefore he couldn't object to a Djelibeybian building management company overseeing the building, right? Our sand – soil – our builders."

Vetinari, who had had a private chat with Gregson about protectionism, and pointed out that very soon there'd be work and contracts enough for everyone, and we will no doubt _need_ to import some expertise to get around a skills shortage, gave an encouraging nod. Ptaclusp went on.

"So I had it out with Mr Gregson, and explained to him that I was only going to bring in a few skilled lads from home to act as foremen and site managers. The rest could all be locally employed members of his Guild, far as I was concerned, so play fair, I'm generating work here. Well, he saw the point. We all got registered as Guild members, and that gives me a lever to build in Ankh-Morpork now. I'm as good as local!"

Vetinari, who had mentioned to Mr Gregson that if he wanted to cause an international diplomatic incident by refusing to let the Djelibeybian Government's chosen local company build its Embassy on what is, by international law, its own sovereign land, then "do go right ahead, as I can't prevent you. But a sensible man would give them full Builders' Guild membership, so they could hire and fire according to local law and custom, hmmm?"

"And seeing the results, I'm very pleased, Mr Ptaclusp. I may have some Government work for you in the future. And your sons are?"

After being introduced to the master builder IIb and the master accountant IIa, **(5)** , they moved indoors.

"We discovered, my Lord, that when the Big Change happened at home, we were at a disadvantage, seeing as we'd only ever built pyramids and the odd mastaba before. The bottom had fallen out of the pyramid market, so to speak, and the new Queen, Gods bless the ground her sandals lightly step on, wanted all kinds of things, like bridges, roads, dockyards."

"I can perceive that would have been a concern, yes."

Vetinari looked up.

Forgive my ignorance, but this eye-catching example of statuary is?"

"As it says on the cartouche, it is a depiction of the Great God Bin, He Who Is Short Of Patience, Trampling Down Hat, The Vulture-Headed God Of Unwelcome Guests, And Banishing Him From Heaven, Lest The Scrounging Parasitical Leech-Like Git Eat Me Out Of House And Home." explained the Ambassador. "It serves as protection against those to whom you may, with extreme reluctance, have to extend the hospitality of your home to."

Vetinari nodded. He'd occasionally had to feed the Wizards of Unseen University, which put a strain on the Palace catering budget.

"Remind me to order one for the Palace art collection." he said. "But you were saying, Mr Ptaclusp?"

"We discovered that to be able to visualise what we were going to build, we had to have somebody on the strength who could build an eye-catching scale model of the finished building in its setting. We've got one over here, of the Embassy. Let me show you."

"Worth their weight in gold" said Ptaclusp IIb. "You can demonstrate to people who aren't quite seeing it what the finished building's going to look like, and use it to explain to your site foremen and sub-contractors which bits they're going to be working on and why. It's like a three-dimensional blueprint!"

"Worth its weight in silver, definitely!" said Ptaclusp IIa. "We discovered a really good architectural model can wow a customer, when they see what the job's going to look like when it's finished. A good model's won us loads of contracts!"

"So I perceive" Vetinari murmured, bending down over the models. A new idea was forming in his head.

"My word. All those little people. The tiny trees. That's awfully realistic grass!"

"The models even dismantle, my lord, so it can be carefully taken apart, floor by floor, to lay bare the inner and supporting structures… or we can look at the skeleton structure here, that was built to guide the steel erectors…"

Vetinari was as near to entranced as he had ever been. His mind raced with possibilities. _A good model on its own can sell the idea to the client… _he could see why. He thought again of the Undertaking. The City Council. Getting the Dwarfs on side.

"And they must take a long time to construct?"

"Surprisingly not, my Lord. Our staff model-maker completed this one inside a week!"

"And if I wanted to hire such a man to work for me?"

The Ptaclusps conferred.

"We can lend you ours, my Lord, for a few weeks. We're short of work for him right now, to tell the truth…"

* * *

He stumbled, dizzy and disorientated, across the sand. He was in a dream, wondering how much of the events of the last week had been dream and how much reality. Around him, the sand was studded with crazily scattered blocks of stone, both coarse inner blocks and smooth facing marble, like chunks of butter tossed into flour prior to making pastry.

The unthinkeable had happened.

The Pyramids had fallen.

The Gods had briefly appeared, and then all the old kings had lurched from the tombs of years, only to be swept away in blinding light and ear-buggering noise.

But he cared little for this.

He wanted to get to the Palace, to see if his workshop had survived. He'd invested his _life_ in that workshop and the things he'd made. Losing it would be a death-in-life, shut into a pyramid of darkness and boredom, with nothing to do with the hands, but his mind still tormenting him with pictures of what his hands were capable of making.

He looked at the ruins of the Pyramids. If the whispers about the new Queen were true, there'd never be another one. Then there'd be no need for grave-goods. And no need for him.

He stifled a frightened sob.

He was twenty-nine. He'd never met the right girl, let alone one who would be willing to do the routine repetitive stuff for him, to leave his hands free to shape the exquisite details. He frowned. His mother had brought him up to be fundamentally honest. He'd never met _any_ girls. He still lived at home with Mum, in fact. And now it looked as if he'd lost his job, the only thing he had that made life worth living…

Grinjer, formerly the Royal Model-Maker, steeled himself and walked on towards the Palace. He was aware of thirst. There was a tent over there, still erect even after the disaster. There was also a rule of hospitality to wanderers in the desert. He smiled. Things were looking up slightly.

He could hear the voices long before he arrived at the tent.

"So explain this bridge thing again, then."

"Well, dad, it's like an aqueduct. Only the water flows underneath it and the top stays dry."

"I'm not with you., What's an aqueduct?"

"It carries water to where it's needed…"

"Oh. Like your mother and the other women?"

"Let me try and draw it for you…"

It was the builders. Grinje slunk inside he tent, and was barely noticed, although Ptaclusp IIa nodded towards the water-skins and a cup. He drank gratefully, and sank into a sitting position.

"I give up!" said Ptaclusp IIb. "We know what's needed and roughly how it should look, but it needs fine tuning. Something's missing here. I'm getting a drink." He turned to the water-skins.

"Oh, Grinjer, isn't it? The Royal Model-Maker?"

Grinjer nodded.

"Not for much longer, the way things are going."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I got to see your 1:87 scale river trireme, before Dios sat on it. It's really impressive, the way you can do perfect-scale models of real things."

Grinjer reddened at the praise.

"Oh, it's easy when you think about it. Just simple maths and measuring. I started with simple things when I was six, for instance I did a 1:350 scale model of the Pyramid of Khufrhu. Miss Nefertiti at school was really impressed! But pyramids are too easy, when you think about it, and after you've built in all the chambers and passageways you sort of lose interest in them. After a while I was doing more complicated models. It all grew from there, really. I use plans sometimes, but it gets to where you see the finished thing in your head, and work from that."

"You did scale models of pyramids?"

"Yes. Don't you? It must make it easier for you when you've got an example of the finished building in miniature to refer to, so you know where you are."

All three of the Ptaclusps were very silent, and were all looking intensely at Grinjer.

"Dad. I think we've solved our problem" said Ptaclusp IIa.

"Sorry, did I say anything wrong?" asked Grinjer.

"How would you like a new job?" Ptaclusp IIb asked. "One that lets you do all the models you want and even pays you for it?"

* * *

**(1**) It's one of those mysteries of diplomatic life on the Discworld. It doesn't matter if the Embassy is that of faraway Fourecks, where the High Commisioner is just as likely to throw you a tinny with the toast "_Get your gums around that, y'bastard_!" Or that of the Confederated Red Indian Tribes of Central Howondaland. Or that of Genua, Brindisi, the Hubland Confederation or even no-nonsense Lancre. It's an unwritten law that at any diplomatic reception there must always be a large salver of gold-wrapped chocolate balls piled in a recognisably (or in this case precisely) pyramidical form.

**(2) **One of Ptraci's first decrees on becoming Pharoah had been to call for a more realistic portrayal of royals in sculpture and art. In her own words, "I'm keeping one or two crocodiles, right, and any artist who does me as if I'm straining to pass a large brick will very soon be doing river wildlife sketches from very close up."

**(3) **Readers familiar with Goscinny and Uderzo's _Asterix_ books will perceive my interpretation of Ptraci comes straight out of _**Asterix and Cleopatra. **_Read it – there are some lovely illustrations! I'm sure Pterry got his character of Ptraci, at least as ruler, from Cleopatra as she appears in the _band desinée. _

**(4) **In my town of residence, Stockport, England, the local council had a grandiose plan to encourage local business by sponsoring a line of six or seven such pyramids, to which image-conscious companies would no doubt come flocking, bringing jobs and prosperity. Alas, recession hit after it had built only one, in a valley road formerly known as Kingsway but now "the Valley of the Kings". The Stockport Pyramid is now used as a bank call-centre. I have based the Djelibeybian Embassy closely on it. Gogle on "Stockport" and "Pyramid" for pictures.

**(5) **Vetinari did not lose an opportunity. He had said to Ptaclusp IIa that he "really wouldn't mind a chat with you sometime, as I'd appreciate it if somebody were to explain the Djelibeybian taxation system to me. At present I do not, alas, fully grasp its intricacies.")


End file.
